Title: The inbetween.
Pairing: Remus/Sirius.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Summary: Sirius did come back as a ghost, but that doesn't mean it made things easier. Three seperate stories detailing Remus's struggle with it.
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i.
"You can't tell anyone," Sirius hissed as soon as he stepped through the door. His brow was creased and his lips crumpled into a firm line, but apart from that, nothing had changed at all. Which is part of what stopped him, Remus, as he stared from the hall; thick metal handle still twisted between his fingers and his breathing stuttering out from the pit of his stomach.

"You--" he started before pushing himself inside through shaking hands and a heartbeat pounding between his temples, "You--"

"I mean it," Sirius added, disregarding him completely as he sauntered casually across the room; he turned then, and their eyes almost locked, "Especially not Harry. He can't know."

"I -- I promise," Remus muttered without thinking and couldn't look away. He kneaded the backs of his palms into his eyes and bit down hard on the inside of his lip when Sirius was still there.

"You're -- real, aren't you?" he asked tentatively, all of a sudden, before realising how stupid it sounded and barely laughing.

Sirius joined in.

"I mean," he continued, before pausing and shaking his head with a grin, "Oh it doesn't matter, I don't care, you're -- here."

"Yes, I'm definitely here," Sirius smiled back and looked away, "Maybe you should sit down."

Remus nodded in agreement but remained stock still with his feet planted on the ground. He looked tired. And more than a little worn. His fingers ran over the edge of his wand, briefly, just in case, but Sirius didn't miss a beat. He didn't comment, but he did shrug, and stretch his shoulders.

"Why?" Remus asked before he could think of anything to say.

"What do you mean why?" Sirius questioned back, "I didn't leave you. Should be glad."

"Think of it," he added, when Remus didn't reply, "like an invibsility cloak for one." He shuffled from foot to foot, "You remember right? Nobody can know you're there. No matter what. Interferes with the prank."

His lips started to curve into a frown when Remus still just stood there, though; hands halfway to his pockets. His hair fell in his face, Sirius noted, just slightly, over his left eye and tumbling down past his brow. And he looked like he hadn't slept for weeks, which was nothing unusual, but the way his eyelids hung low made it seem less like he hadn't been able to and more like he didn't want to.

"I waited for you," he growled out eventually, and Sirius looked up, "I waited for you. I thought it might be -- I don't know. I waited."

"I was dead," Sirius replied softly and it all clicked in to place as he made his way carefully back to him, "I was dead," he said again, "I didn't really have much choice about it."

"The prank," Remus mumbled then, almost like he was on a different page to himself, entirely, "Of course, the prank."

"Remus?" Sirius asked as his head fell and his back stiffened.

"You're back," he said suddenly with a bright smile when he straightened up again, "You're really back."

"Invisibility cloak," Sirius whispered sadly as he tried to touch him, moving away, "Not a word."

"Okay." Remus muttered under his breath, "Okay."

ii.
The hardest part, Remus thought, as he lay awake watching the moon inch across the ceiling; it hadn't been him dying so much as it had been him coming back. His eyes ached when he thought about it, and his head pounded, but it was the only thing he could pay any heed to anymore. He'd stuff breakfast idly down his throat, he'd get dressed without turning on the light, he'd tie his laces without first checking his shoes were on his feet. It all blurred into sharp silhouettes that faded away in daylight and made sense when he has was on his own.

Sirius was there, Sirius was always there, and it was just like old times. They wouldn't prank anyone, of course, other than that being more James's forte than his own, they were also in the middle of a war and, whilst he was all for any remidual amount of cheering up, he didn't think it very proper if it were to come from him - a person who hadn't really lost anyone, after all. But it was harder.

"Remus?" Sirius would ask when they were alone, standing and watching out of the thin window as Remus shuffled around the bed covers before climbing underneath them; "Do you --" he'd start, "I mean, would you have any regrets now, if you died?"

And he'd always pause and smile and shake his head.

"No."

Sirius would bite his lip and pick his star out from the sky before turning away.

"I do," he would say eventually, and, usually, that was as far as it went. Remus had asked the first night what it was, but Sirius had deemed it a non-issue and disappeared out of the door. It got colder then, it always did, and Remus wrapped himself tighter in the blankets and waited for Sirius to come back before he could sleep.

It was winter, almost, and he'd taken to wearing a jumper to bed, tucker over his pyjama bottoms. And he couldn't help but to remember it all. He knew Sirius was there without looking and he turned over when the question came he'd been waiting for.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, and he almost hid a grin, "Would you have any regrets, if you died now?"

And, as always, Remus shook his head.

"No."

"I do," he replied and Remus buried his face against the pillow so he wouldn't have to see him walking out again.

"I never told you," and he stilled at Sirus's voice, "I never said how I liked you best of all. It's why I'm still here. In case you wondered. I know what you're like."

By the time Remus's mind clicked enough to tell him to look at him, he could hear the gentle voices out in the corridor and knew Sirius had gone.

"I never told you either," he thought and laughed to himself, under his breath. The middle of a war, the middle of an old house, and he was having ephiphanies about love. Not that being in love with Sirius was new, but rather, how much harder it was realising he had only gone and fallen in love with him all over again.

Except this time, they couldn't do a damn thing about it.

iii.
"I hate you," Remus hissed, doubled over on himself between the thick sheets of his bed, "I mean it. I really hate you."

Sirius looked up from under his fringe and smirked, "No you don't," he said casually as he pushed his hand a little further down his pants, "In fact," he purred, right up against him, "I'm pretty certain you love me."

It went suddenly cold but Remus couldn't take his eyes off him long enough to notice.

"Do you really have to do that?" he ground out through his teeth and clamped his thighs together.

"We can't really strip," Sirius laughed, pushing his palm further into his crotch, "So this is kind of as close to teasing you as I can get."

Remus groaned then, and threw his head back against the pillow, "I hate you," he spat out again as he nudged his pyjama bottoms down to his knees, "I hate you so much right now."

"One of the perks of being a ghost. You can't do a single thing about it."